I haven’t written in a while, not feeling as if there’s much to say.  No international trips, no vacations, no crises or celebrations.  Just the usual days, one after another.  Work, housework, dinners with friends, etc.  Those are the things of life. 

Today is Sunday, and the sun has been shining after days and days of rain.  I tried a new recipe, curried eggplant with tomatoes and chickpeas.  It was good, but needed something.  I’ll play with the recipe later.

Then there was time to mow, though the ground was still soggy in places.  There are always sticks and limbs to pick up and burn, and who doesn’t love to set things on fire in the backyard?

There’s the garden surrounded by an anti-rabbit, anti-deer fence.  The lettuce is coming up with tiny leaves barely visible, but I am encouraged to see a line of green in a sea of mud.

I’m not finished with the planting, and it occurred to me that I should have flowers in pots before putting a picture out there of my half-finished product, but that’s the way it goes.  If I waited until the house was clean before inviting friends over, I’d never do it.  I can’t wait for the laundry to be caught up before going to a movie.  Things are never finished, but it’s in the journey that satisfaction comes in a series of small ways.  Today I’m happy with my yard and my budding garden.  Next week I’ll be smiling at newly planted flowers.  Next month I’ll be eating lettuce fresh from the garden for my Sunday dinner.  I can taste it already.